Brush & Ink
by YamiTenshi
Summary: For the first time in a long time, Sasuke Uchiha found himself feeling particularly hopeless. When Naruto suggested the project, he was skeptical. But now, it may be just the thing he needed. Naruto   Sasuke


Brush & Ink

0o0

Cold and grey the rock sat steadfast in place, the good soil around it loamy and glowing with the warmth of the noon sun. No matter how hot the world around it grew, the stone was eternally cold. It was, after all, a memorial stone, a grave marker for all the shinobi who had fallen in the line of duty. Names inscribed upon the rock would eventually be eroded away and forgotten, but by then they would be at peace, resting on the far shore or perhaps revived as a nature spirit. And yet this stone, this reminder of those who came before, was incomplete. Countless names failed to be inscribed for a wide-ranging number of reasons but it was only one that Naruto cared to notice. One single person who had sacrificed everything for this village: family, friends, his very honor stripped from him in the eyes of the public. Everything was gone, leaving him with nothing but the heavy brand of traitor. How many knew the truth of this unsung hero? Few too many, for the ones who'd sealed his death were determined to never let the truth be revealed, to stay locked in the hero's cold, dead body for all eternity. Truth would result in a massive revolt so it was stifled and there was nothing he could do about it

Except this one small thing.

He raised his brush and painted the characters onto the polished granite. Ink would wear away in a few days, but seeing the name there even for a fleeting moment would be worth it. When his work was done, he looked upon it with satisfaction.

"I protected him for you, Itachi. Now I'll take care of you. Treat you the way you deserve."

Naruto rose to his feet, dusted off his pants, and looked into the day beyond. There were other obligations he had to fulfill before he could lay down his head and sleep a dreamless sleep. He intended to follow through on all of them.

I0I0I0I0I

_Toiro stifled a gasp of surprise at Ryuuga's dragon, shining red and crying luscious pearls. It was her first time to ever see one, so she took in the sight hungrily, using her fingertips to learn the structure of the smooth body, nails dancing along its girth. She kissed its ruby head and_

"Naruto."

_her lips parted to lap it with her pink tongue_

"Naruto."

_Ryuuga growled with content as she began to ask the dragon for milk_

A foot to the back of his head ended the creative streak.

"How many times have I told you to not interrupt me when I'm working?" Naruto groaned, lifting his head from his notebook as his inspiration fizzled out in an instant. There went his chance of finishing the manuscript on time. "I could've gotten this whole chapter finished. Why do you always bother me when I'm trying to write?"

"Do your real job. Tsunade wants to see you."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No."

"You're a dick, teme." Naruto stood, putting his pencil inside his notebook and closing it.

"You shouldn't have brought me back."

"I've told you a million times: I made a promise." Naruto shrugged on his jacket, pausing to stare deep in the rumbling storms of Sasuke's eyes. "And I don't go back on my word."

Sasuke said nothing. With his brother dead, Danzo buried, and Madara vanished without a trace, much of the fighting he'd done through his adolescence had left him tired. The Konohans had shoved him back in his bird cage, paying no mind that he'd long since outgrown it. Struggle gained him punishments and restrictions that in the beginning had been piled atop him so high he couldn't so much as use the bathroom without a personal escort and a pair of handcuffs. So he waited, cursing the lock that bound him here, the tri-layered seal on each of his limbs that would explode if he left the village. Tsunade, Kakashi, and Naruto had suffered him to undergo the experience, each laying their own level on the seals. In the case that one of them died, the other two could override it if Sasuke obeyed, became a model citizen. The pain in having them applied had been excruciating enough, for chakra rarely mixed well in foreign bodies. But it had been no less agonizing. As a medic, Tsunade was experienced with melding her chakra in the bodies of others, so hers had been a gentle buzz. Kakashi hadn't been so bad either and he managed to bear that particular session with only minor teeth gritting. It was Naruto who had made him bite his lip into a shredded mess and scream so hard that his voice had been shot for a week. Kyuubi had continued to meld their chakra until it was as it is now, more demon than human. Demon chakra wasn't meant to enter mere mortals and consequently the treatment rendered him fading in and out of deep unconsciousness hourly and persisted for a fortnight.

Even now, it had its moments when it ached uncomfortably. Regardless of that, the time would come again when he would once more walk free and leave this wretched place. Until then, he was stuck on the receiving end of innumerable evil looks from the villagers, not allowed to perform even the simplest of genin missions. His days were filled with wandering, shopping, reading, and sleeping, occasionally accented with drinking alone until he passed out on his porch. He hated it. So when the mood struck him, he heckled Naruto so that he could squeeze a few fickle drops of something resembling other than mindless monotony into his life.

"What does that hag want now?"

Ah, how sweet it was!

I0I0I0I0I

It was nothing important, Naruto merely had to whack Konohamaru around for running off on his own when he went on a mission. Words were shared between the blondes after the boy had been dealt with—strident, unkind words about having busy schedules and not wanting to be called in for inane reasons—and Naruto left with Sasuke shadowing him silently.

"You want something to eat? You owe me a meal, yanno. For interrupting my work. That costs me money."

"I don't owe you anything."

"I believe you do," Naruto retorted, unwilling to see any view that was not his own.

Typical behavior for those who shared similar belief sets, a self-centered person only occupied with what they wanted and was only concerned about achieving their own ends. Sasuke knew this because he too was a self-centered person. At least he didn't try to bullshit around and act like he was anything else the way those hypocritical Naruto-type bastards preaching tolerance and warmth and crusading for the light. Life was as simple as setting goals for oneself and achieving them with complete disregard to anything that got in its way. If that thing getting in the way happened to be the organs of a former subordinate, so be it. Karin had been fine anyway. Sort of.

That was why Naruto would never really be successful. He didn't understand the way the world worked. Reality wasn't peaceful coexistence and harmony amongst mankind. Reality was bloodshed and torment gorging itself on agony until it puked up more violence to cultivate into sustenance to devour and start the cycle once more. That thing that Naruto put so much stock in, that thing called happiness, couldn't match to the skin-tingling feeling of sinking his blade into the guts of an enemy. Happiness was transient and fleeting and a complete waste of time. Living was not a happy task. It was built on struggle and failure, growing slowly into a grand mansion of triumph. At the moment, his was still under construction. It was a nice thing, with Orochimaru and Danzo's heads on full display in the grand hall. They were the shining points of his career.

But he wanted something more. He needed more souls to paint the walls with, more bones for the frame. It was far from finished and would remain so as long as he stayed in Konoha. There had to be a way to remove the tri-layered seal. Where there was a will, there was a way. That was what his mother had said, god rest her beautiful soul. And will was something he had an abundance of. Trouble was, he had no real means to enable what he needed to do to get out of this place. Much research had to be done and all of it in a discreet manner. Everything about seals must be studied, but he wasn't allowed to get a library card. For someone who was such an addled drunk most of the time, Tsunade had her moments of mystifying craftiness. Knowledge was dangerous. Come to think of it, she may have mentioned orders to immediately take him down if he even dared to try to enter the library. While he doubted there was anything in there worth getting tackled by a pack of ANBU for, he was willing to take whatever he could.

Naruto probably had some information on seals. He had known enough to help construct the damn tri-layer. Perhaps his whole shtick was to trick everyone with his obfuscating stupidity and build a network of drones that would jump when he asked because he remembered their birthday. That was too clever for him, though. Obviously he was just an idiot with a remarkable amount of luck, which made him irritated all the more when he insisted on writing that Icha Icha trash.

"You should be focusing on your shinobi life instead of pissing away hours writing pornography. Who cares one way or the other if the series dies?"

"I do. Icha Icha is Jiraiya's literary legacy and maintaining it keeps the readers of the series inflamed with passionate love and open hearts."

Sometimes Sasuke wondered if Naruto had the same internal filter that prevented people from arbitrarily blurting out whatever inanities were on their mind at any given time. "That sounds like total bullshit."

"…Well, Kakashi-sensei did sorta mention rearranging my insides with a Raikiri if I couldn't find a way to keep the series running."

"You should dedicate yourself to your real job. Be thankful you can be a shinobi." Not all people could be so fortunate.

"Just pledge your loyalty to us, teme. Prove that you truly want to be a shinobi again and we won't stop you."

"And end up a kekkei genkai dog like Neji? No thanks."

"Don't be so difficult, Sasuke."

Sasuke. Not teme. He was being serious.

"We want to help you live the life you want. If that means being a shinobi, then we'll do whatever it takes. Now buy me dinner."

Sasuke lowered his head and cleared his mind of all thoughts.

"It doesn't have to be ramen. There's a new okonomiyaki place not too far from here."

Sasuke knew he would regret this soon enough. He was provided only a certain allowance each week so that he could maintain a modest lifestyle. Naruto was liable to eat through it in one sitting. That didn't stop him from trudging through the streets after his bubbly companion. Okonomiyaki wouldn't be so bad. Besides, it wasn't as if he had any pressing matters to attend to. A bonus of being unemployed, he supposed. Trouble was that he had all the time in the world to do nothing. Except drink, of course. No one bothered him when he bough liquor. Shopping for alcohol was considered a normal thing for a man to do. Appearing normal was beneficial to getting the Konohans to trust him. So he drank. A beer here, a cup of sake there, nothing too excessive.

They took their seats and ordered, watching their server pour the batter on the grill. Before he could stop it, Naruto ordered up a plate of takoyaki to eat while they were waiting. Great. Just what he needed: more budget strain.

"I'm on welfare, dobe. You're paying for that."

"But—"

Sasuke shot him a look. He'd gotten good at that over the years. From the simple simpering glower to the full on 'I'm going to stab you in the face' glare, he mastered them all.

"Fine…" Naruto checked his wallet to ensure he had sufficient funds. "But you're not getting any."

To spite him, Sasuke to a ball, spearing it with one of the provided toothpicks and eating it. The inside was hot and creamy, melting over his tongue. He chewed the octopus leisurely. Coming back here would be good. He took another, ignoring the protests of the idiot. This was officially his new favorite place to eat.

"Cut it out, teme!" Naruto pulled the takoyaki away, hoarding it on his side of the table like a greedy bear.

The chef flipped the okonomiyaki and turned off the griddle. "Anything else?"

"A bottle of Kirin beer."

"What happened to preserving your precious welfare money?" But Naruto's short attention span bested him. "You got shrimp?"

Impulsively he reached for a piece of the okonomiyaki, but Sasuke elegantly parried his chopsticks. This wasn't an act of greed, no. He could simply smell the poison of the dish writhing upward in noxious clouds of steam. If the dobe ate it and died, then he would be blamed and sentenced to death. Perhaps he should let him eat it then. End his suffering and join Itachi. Given his current circumstances, he had a hard time seeing how he would get anywhere. No matter what Tsunade claimed about how much she had supposedly lowered the security detail on him, he knew there was always someone watching him. Someone at a nearby table was an ANBU, that much he knew. It was hard telling who, as even the most basic chakra mask could dupe him now. Being powerless was miserable.

Nevertheless, his immunity was still effective and so he ate the poisoned cabbage, washing it down with great swigs of beer from the large bottle. The flavor was marred by the bitter almond taste of the intended murder weapon, eyes steady on the young chef, who had gone white when he realized that his game had been discovered. Sasuke supposed he should be thanking Orochimaru for being even able to do this with only consequences of an irritated stomach and perhaps some blood in his stool later. The old snake's methods had proven useful over the years. Though loathe to admit it as he was, the man had been something of a father figure to him. Shame the snake couldn't bail him out now. He could use a helping hand. No one sympathized with him here. No one to help him. Unless… He found someone who wanted to. There had to be _someone_ in this place who felt sympathetic towards him.

"Fine, be stingy. Give me some beer."

Sasuke jerked the bottle back and took another swig. "Why don't you buy your own, little boy?"

"I would punch you _so_ hard right now if I wasn't trying to learn how to control my temper." With that said, Naruto kicked him in the shin anyway.

"Let me guess, Sakura?" She was one to talk. The girl had to be bipolar.

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter. Have you started your spring cleaning yet?"

"No."

"What? Why not? Aren't you worried about the evil spirits hiding in all your junk?" Naruto waggled his fingers and made noises Sasuke supposed were to be construed as spooky, but sounded completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm not superstitious." Father had always frowned upon superstition.

"They'll make you sick."

Spirits could only do so much. Not that he particularly believed in them. "I don't care."

"That tears it. I'm helping you clean first thing tomorrow. I don't care if you lock me out, I'll get in somehow."

"Don't set a foot on my property."

"I'll be there first thing in the morning."

"You better not."

His threat was received by empty air.

I0I0I0I0I

As promised, the idiot showed up first thing the next day. Sasuke was in a hurry to get himself somewhat decent, ignoring the persistent ringing of the doorbell. He had awoken in his backyard, yukata skewed wildly about him, a pile of vomit beside him. He was fairly sure it was his, unless someone had broken into the compound last night in a failed attempt to upchuck on the great traitor. Tossing a handful of leaves on it covered enough of it that it wasn't immediately noticeable and he ran a hand through his hair as he hurried to the door. Couldn't let Naruto see the full extent of his misery. He'd get 'concerned'.

"Hello?"

"Wow, you must've really went to town on that Kirin last night." Naruto took a step back, crinkling his nose.

Dammit, he'd forgotten about the smell. "None of your business."

"Let's get cleaning, shall we? Or do you have a hangover? You didn't drink the whole thing, did you? That's like… Two liters of beer."

"I didn't drink the whole damn thing." Sasuke wrote a mental note to self: find way to dispose of empty bottle subtly.

"Good. Jiraiya used to do that. Drink a whole bunch, I mean. Always hated it when he was too hungover to train me." Naruto patted the other man on the shoulder and Sasuke chased away the unwanted hand with a few swats of his own. "Go take a shower or something. I'll make you breakfast. You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"Do your real job, dobe."

"Keeping an eye on you is part of my real job, Sasuke. If it weren't for me, you'd be under ANBU surveillance 24/7." Naruto looked him up and down, passing judgment on him through that damnably righteous mindset. "Did you gain some weight lately? Not saying anything by that, of course. Maybe it's my imagination running away with me. I mean, I can't even imagine a fat Sasuke." His grin grew from cheek to cheek and he burst into uproarious laughter. "Oh god, that'd be hilarious! What if you turned into Choji?"

Sasuke scowled at him.

"Killjoy. Shower, now. You reek of booze." Naruto began herding Sasuke towards the bathroom and the Uchiha pushed him away, finishing the trek.

He stood in the shower until the water ran cold, forehead pressed against the wall as the artificial rain poured down on him. Lifting his soap for the first time after half an hour, he scrubbed the important parts. Face, armpits, crotch, ass, so on. Ideally he'd neglect the face if that wasn't the first thing people saw. The others were simply because he didn't want to stink of body odor and give people more reasons to hate him. Dirty Uchiha traitor. That'd be the parents. Stinky Sasuke, the kids.

He laughed softly, lathering his pubic curls until they were foamy white and dripping soap. Numbly his penis swung beneath the sea of bubbles, lifeless and limp. How long had it been since he'd touched himself? Years, likely. Not since he was twelve and getting used to the new aspects of his body, if he recalled correctly. He remembered the first time he'd seen hair sprouting up in places it hadn't before. Puberty had been terrifying to him. Foreign smells, strange liquids spurting from places that shouldn't be touched, and that dense patch of curly black hairs that had popped up practically overnight. Masturbation was a nerve-wracking ordeal. He did it once and was scared off of it from the hideously monstrous pleasure it brought. Penises were for peeing with and nothing else, that's what his parents had said. They weren't toys and were only to be touched when using the bathroom.

No wonder he'd been so mortified when he had nocturnal emissions for the first few times. When he woke up with his underwear cold and clinging to his skin, he thought that he'd wet the bed but that wasn't quite it. This stuff was sticky and opaque white and had a strong odor completely unlike urine. Fortunately his parents left behind books on many things, including male development. The crippling embarrassment was alleviated. He tried not to think about girls, lest he get one of the dreaded 'erections' they had talked about. Sometimes they happened anyway. Sometimes he was with Cell Seven, with Sakura and Naruto and Kakashi when it happened. Trying to make sure they never noticed was stressful beyond words. He wondered if Naruto had the same problems, but never asked because it was too dirty, too shameful to discuss.

He rinsed the curls and flicked his penis. No response. Practically dead. Better that way.

Yawning, he stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Passing the mirror, he paused and scanned himself. The definition of his muscles had begun to fade. When he lifted his arms to get a better look, the flesh jiggled. Around his midsection a pouch of sorts had developed, obscuring what had once been tight, well-defined abdominals. Looking closer, he noticed his face had an upsetting thickness to it that he'd last seen in baby photos. Perhaps getting back into shape should be a priority before he fell apart completely. Enough time had passed that they wouldn't mind if he did some innocent cross-country running exercises. No, then he'd just be playing into their game. Besides, he wasn't going to get any fatter than this. Most of his money went towards his utilities and he only ate so he didn't keel over.

He slid into a fresh(er) yukata, one that had some sort of odd stain on it near the hip. It didn't really matter. Cleaning didn't require him to model the spring collection.

Moderately clean and no longer stinking of alcohol, he shuffled into the kitchen. Naruto scolded him for being gone too long but there was fish and rice and miso soup prepared for the two of them on the table. He didn't remember having fish. Did he have enough stamps for fish? Or was that considered part of the 'imported food' not covered by the government aid program since so much of it came from outside of Konoha?

"I brought some stuff from my place, 'cause I didn't know what you'd have. Hope you don't mind." Naruto set a carton of orange juice on the table after pouring himself a glass. "That reminds me. Look in the fridge."

Sasuke did. In it sat an untouched six-pack of tomato juice. Sasuke _definitely_ knew his stamps didn't cover that. He brought one to the table and cracked it open, gulping it down with vigor.

"Thought you'd like that. They were having a sale on them down at—what's that one place? Hasegawa's, that's it." Naruto nodded, plucking a small piece of grilled fish off his plate. "I bought you like a case of them. That's um… Twelve six-packs. They're at my house right now."

There was hope for this idiot after all. He tucked into the fish and alternated bites of meaty goodness with the less tasty but also nourishing brown rice and decent miso soup. Aside from the meal last night (which he imagine to be rather delicious when it wasn't being poisoned) it was the best he'd eaten in a long while. Encouragements from Naruto to get seconds were unnecessary, he was already helping himself. Setting his chopsticks atop his plate perpendicular to the fish skeleton, Naruto watched Sasuke devour the meal enthusiastically and smiled a bit.

"I'll make you more meals when I've got the time."

Halting his binge, Sasuke's lips fell into a trained moue. "I don't want your help."

"It's not help. It's eating together. Meals taste better when they're shared with someone, don't you think?"

Sasuke knew what a lie that was. Naruto was sickeningly good that way, wanting to spread his benevolence over everyone he met in smothering blankets. He had his pride to think of, never mind being an unemployed criminal who depended on the bittersweet teat of welfare. Placing his chopsticks down primly, he took a parting sip of the soup and sunk into his mind.

"You like shrimp, don't you? The old lady who lives next door has a really good recipe for fried shrimp that's absolutely mind-blowing. That sounds like a good dinner, doesn't it? Or maybe a lunch, if I packed it with an omelet and some pickled cabbage—and rice, of course." Naruto propped up his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. "We could have a picnic. I could invite Sakura and Kakashi and Hinata and—"

"No." More people lounging around and judging him was the last thing he needed. Kakashi and Sakura weren't 'safe' because they'd been part of Cell Seven. If anything, they were worse. They would try to empathize with him.

"Then the two of us—"

"_No._" Attending a picnic with Naruto was the last thing he wanted to do, right after putting on a dress and walking into the busiest intersection in town to dance the Fandango.

"What if I promised not to talk to you?"

Promises of silence were the only ones Naruto couldn't keep. He didn't dignify it with an answer.

"What do you do all day?"

That didn't need to be answered either. Sasuke cleared the table and set the dishes in the sink. Washing them could come later. Maybe.

"Fine, don't talk to me. Ungrateful ass." Naruto rolled up his sleeves and plugged the sink with the drain stopper that sat neglected at the corner of the drying rack. Scavenging in a low cabinet rewarded him with dish soap and squirted some into the empty sink and ran water, intending to wash the breakfast meal. "Put up the leftovers."

Sasuke felt his blood boil. How dare this insolent man come into his home and start ordering him around. Worse yet, it was done in the middle of a pity call. Naruto didn't give a damn whether or not he rotted in his compound. He was only doing it out of some self-serving obligatory bullshit. Anger bubbled out of his throat in furious screams as he shoved Naruto, then snatched him by the arm and flung him across the room in a mighty throw. All of his strength hadn't gone completely to hell yet, it seemed.

"Get the fuck out of my house! I never want to see your pitiful face again!"

Naruto sprung up and tackled the Uchiha, slamming him to the ground. He sat on the deserter's chest and gave him a solid right hook before his anger simmered to nothingness. He grabbed Sasuke by the throat and lifted his head, forcing him to look into his eyes. "I am going to help you clean this godforsaken house whether you want me to or not. It will look fucking fantastic once we're finished with it. We'll eat dinner, I'm not sure what yet, but there's plenty of time to think about it. Then I'll go home because I have a mission tomorrow and I have to get my sleep. Understand?"

Sasuke opted to fume in silence as Naruto dismounted him and allowed him to stand. Being unable to use ninjutsu or genjutsu didn't mean he had to put up with this. With a violent flourish, he pointed at the door. His former cellmate's presence was no longer welcome in this estate. Not that it had ever really been, but much less so now than ever before.

Bunshin filled the kitchen abruptly and Naruto dispatched the clone squadron to the many buildings surrounding Sasuke's humble abode. Furious beyond words, Sasuke chased after them, screaming at the top of his lungs for them to stop before they desanctified his shrines. All the houses remained as they did after the massacre, sans corpses. Inevitably there was a fair amount of decay associated with this respectful neglect, but other than a few leaky roofs and screens that needed repairing they were perfectly acceptable as living quarters. True, he hadn't set foot in any of them in over a decade, so he couldn't estimate the full damage, but it was best to leave them be. Like the Uchiha clan, they had to die. He couldn't very well burn the compound and spread their ashes over his family's tombstones. That could easily result in destruction of his home. Besides, ANBU would come and beat the hell out of him, alleging conspiracies of torching the village in some farfetched revenge plot. Supplying them with reasons to kill him when he knew they were looking for any they could get was the last thing he needed to do.

Gasping breathlessly as his collar was snagged, the last thing Sasuke felt before the darkness consumed him was a hand on his shoulder.

I0I0I0I0I

Coming to ruined his slumber. Though the nap had been anything but voluntary, it was still a reminder that peace could only be found in the moments he spent in the temporary embrace of oblivion. The bastard had dragged him back to his house and put him to bed, treating him like a fucking child. Sasuke cracked his toes, staring at the ceiling. What had happened while he was unconscious? How badly had his shrines been desecrated? Getting out of bed to find out would be the beginning of the collapse of this microcosm he'd so carefully maintained. Not too long after, he realized that the bed had not been spared the cleansing either. These sheets were freshly laundered and a shade of warm golden brown that he never recalled seeing in his years of living here. Must've been pilfered from the remains of a relative's house.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his toes hovering a few inches above the floor as he stared dead on at his closed door. Had the floor been changed as well? He lowered his feet and met the familiar touch of tatami on his feet. The green of the igusa had faded somewhat over the years, but it was still blessedly the same. Aside from the sheets, Naruto seemed to have left this room alone. He probably didn't know how to clean tatami. Not that Sasuke was a pro at it or anything. Nowadays he only cleaned up as much as was necessary and rarely bothered with the floors. He got out of bed and padded down the hall to see the rest of the damage. Hopefully the prevalence of tatami throughout the house had befuddled him and rendered him completely frustrated, unable to perform much more than rudimentary cleaning. That would show that idiot. He didn't want—

Sasuke stopped dead in the center of his living room. Gathered into an overflowing heap was, he deduced, every single item in the house. Clothes from Father and Itachi were carelessly thrown together with books he'd read a thousand times and toys from his childhood. Mother's favorite dishes were carefully stacked next to her koto, the one she had promised to teach him how to play once he graduated. Horrifyingly, his personal journals were in the pile as well. They had gathered up slowly since he was six and knew more about him than any person alive. Naruto had probably read them all and laughed.

Something in the mountain caught his eye and he drew closer and removed it slowly, trying not to send the rest of the mass of memories tumbling around him. Failure, followed by an avalanche and the desired object's freedom. White silk, virtually untouched before that wretched bastard Naruto had come in, lay cold in his hand. Issuing a low groan from the deepest pit of his stomach, Sasuke dropped to his knees and wept into the fabric. Wounds thought to be long scarred over bled fresh and raw. Mother's wedding kimono. Before this moment, he had seen it only once, folded neatly in her closet while he begged her to take him to see a movie. Someday, she said, it would belong to his wife. Foolishly he had stated that he would marry her because he loved her more than anyone else in the world and she had humored his stupidity, saying that was fine with her.

She had lied to make him happy. Kindness like that had gone out of his life when she died. Some had tried, but it had been ineffective in every sense of the word. The adults didn't know what was good for him, though they sure as hell thought they did. Boys in his class disliked him because girls liked him too much. Heaven knows how many love letters he'd gotten in those academy days. Truthfully, he rather liked being fawned over by all those cute girls. He simply had to ignore it until he found someone he wanted to marry as much as his mom. He thought he had found it in one girl, but she couldn't care less about him.

That Hyuuga girl. Hinata. She was delicate and soft-spoken and a lot of the guys in their class picked on her because of it. How many times had he secretly followed her after school to only see her getting shoved around by those no-name jerks who only got into the academy because their parents had a little influence? Each encounter made him gnash his teeth and pray that she would fight back, but she took it all in stride and would merely continue on home as if nothing happened. He couldn't step in because that would hurt her pride and she'd get another haircut. Traditionally the Hyuuga clan members all had long hair, but hers was so short that it defied belief. According to his mom, they were required to cut it when they were shamed, which made him wonder what she had done. Sometimes he thought that he should be like Sarutobi Sasuke, the shinobi he was named after, and execute a splendid rescue of her, but it seemed wrong to save her when she didn't want to be saved. Not a single plead for help passed her lips. So he watched in agony, never intervening.

They might have fallen in love if it wasn't for Uzumaki Fucking Naruto. Whatever Hinata saw in him was a mystery. Naruto didn't deserve her affection. He didn't see her. Not like Sasuke saw her. He took everything for granted and was too busy running around to look her way. Naruto was no good for loving. All he could do was yell and spoil things and trample about noisily in ridiculous attempts to show off.

Once he had tried to give her chocolate for Valentine's Day despite it being the girl's job, but he had chickened out in the end and given them to his mom instead. Mother had understood. She told him to take his time and that soon Hinata would see that she was the right one for her. That night she'd let him sleep in the grown-up bed between her and Father. Years and years had gone by, but he could remember the feeling of their heat surrounding him and for a millisecond, a mote of that warmth emanated from the silk.

Tearing himself away from the kimono was a difficult task with the way his heart was palpitating. He had to get out of here. Had to buy some oblivion. He ran back to his bedroom and searched through the nook between his bed and the wall for the treasure box he had filled so joyously in his youth. There it was, in the same place as always. Sasuke unceremoniously dumped the contents on his bed. Beads, feathers, pictures, and most importantly: coins. Counting frantically, he found that he had enough to get himself a cheap twelve pack and ran to the liquor store barefoot, tossing the money on the counter and retrieving his prize within record time.

Can number one was open and half finished by the time he was out the door, tossing it aside when it was empty. Fleeing the scene so no one would see him in this shameful state, he consumed the alcohol as fast as he could until he could no longer see straight and collapsed in an old irrigation ditch near the old Cell Seven training ground. What a despicable creature he was. Burning down Konoha didn't sound so bad at the moment.

"Hey Mister, why are you crying?"

"I hate everything." After a moment, he admitted, "I hate myself."

A small hand patted him on the shoulder. "You want me to walk you home?"

Sasuke looked up at the child, whose hand was outstretched. Sorely in need of company at the moment, he took it and shambled back to the compound with the boy. Not a single citizen took notice of him or raised voice in complaint of him being near a child, which was somewhat surprising given Orochimaru's supposed reputation. Many townspeople had begged that traitor not be allowed near children in case he shared his previous caretaker's brand of perversion. The boy himself was blissfully ignorant of the fact that he was holding hands with an S-rank criminal. How naïve was this kid?

When they arrived back in the compound, he realized how filthy his feet were. There was no way he was going to give Naruto a reason to clean when he came back from that mission. He laid down in the grass of his yard, listening to the crickets chirp. The boy managed to find a blanket within the house that he put on Sasuke before he knelt down and kissed the man's forehead.

"See ya."

Without another word, he began his return trek to the village.

Sasuke's dreams were particularly bloody and torrid that night.

0o0

Anyway, this was based off of a prompt I saw a couple years ago and it stuck really strongly in my head and once I started fleshing out the initial concept, it was very persistent in its desire to be let out. So this should just be a quick type thing and hopefully it doesn't go the way of Send Ye Back (god, it's less than a year old and I already want to rewrite the whole damn thing) and it feels good to post _something_ after this writing drought I seem to be having.

Until next time…

~YamiTenshi~


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